Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep
by riophoenix
Summary: Bug Hellerman has been having odd dreams lately, dreams which show him the haunted faces of those whose souls are with him, and the blade once used for vengeance. Could it be that the Riverton Ripper has returned? R&R.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I'm literally obsessed with this movie, so I decided to write about it. The storyline takes place after that of My Soul To Take, although I brought Aunt May back to life and I don't own any of the characters in this chapter, though there might be some new ones in later chapters that I will have to claim as my own. I'm planning on making it a chapter story, though if it doesn't get reviews I'm obviously not going to update, though I'll probably still write just for the enjoyment of it. That is all, folks. Enjoy.**

Bug Hellerman awoke in a cold sweat, blood pounding in his ears. He sat up. Tonight was not unusual for him; he often woke up after the same old dream nowadays, never finishing it, never finding out how it ended.

Bug sighed and walked over to his open window. Rain was pouring in heavy, clear drops onto his window sill. Lightning flashed somewhere in the distance. He slammed the window shut tight and closed the floor-length curtains.

He sat back down and glanced around his bedroom; boxes were still scattered everywhere, the walls were half-painted, and pictures and posters were strung up at random all around the room. Bug was taking his time settling in, even though it had been nearly a year since the move. This house was different and a lot smaller than the one he had moved out of. It was cartilaginous and obscure, like it could fall apart at your fingertips at any given moment. The atmosphere was almost always glum, but then again, that could just be because of the memories and reminder of why the family of three lived in this house. The disturbed pain Bug felt roughly everyday - a bizarre kind, the kind you only feel when you lose something important, the kind that's like a puncturing wound - was enough to make someone want to move not only onto a different city block, but into a different state where you could be anonymous, where no one would know your story, and where you weren't celebrated as a hero. But Bug continued to fake being their hero; he faked it everyday, and he faked it good.

Six faces of the Riverton Seven swam through his mind yet again. He didn't like dreaming about them. He especially didn't like the part consisting of black shadow of a hand grasping the hilt of a blade that always appeared, and always flashed in an unknown source of light for a split-second, so that Bug could make out one word: _vengeance_ - the Ripper's knife. The dream always ended with a voice, a rather suppressed and husky one, uttering the same words that seemed to be intercepted at the close, though Bug could never quite make out what they were.

He tried and tried to convince himself that he was psychologically dreaming about the Ripper, and that it all had to do with flashbacks and memories, but couldn't be considerably sure, and something inside of him had its doubts.

_He's coming, Bug, _Penelope's voice echoed in his head.

_Jesus? _He grinned at how idiotically he had responded to her so many months ago.

_If we should be so lucky, _she had told him.

_You got that right, _Bug thought as he glanced at the clock above his bedroom door. It was almost 5:00am, and after a moment's decision, he decided he'd better catch a few more hours of sleep before awakening again to go to school.

Bug lie back on the bed, listening to the beating of raindrops, and soon enough, drifted off into a deep and dream-free sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Despite waking up in the middle of the night and spending an hour to think, Bug awoke the next morning feeling dazed and drowsy. He sighed, something he did very often these days, and collected himself for school.

Bug stumbled down the spiraled staircase of his not-so-new home - though it still felt new to him - and found Fang waiting for him in the sitting room. She smiled briefly, and said, "Morning," when she saw him.

It wasn't uncommon that Fang and Bug got along now. They became a lot closer after the incident; it was like a silent connection had been passed between the two of them, like, _now that all our friends our dead, let's be nicer to each other._

"Morning," Bug replied half-heatedly.

"You ready to leave?" she asked, and stood. Bug nodded and they headed out the door together.

The walk to Riverton High School was not far, though it seemed like miles when the weather was chilly. Bug pulled his jacket closer around him as a gust of wind swept through the city, and he noticed Fang do the same.

"Why is it _so damn _cold?" Fang blurted, more to herself than to Bug. "It's freaking _September_, for crying out loud!"

Bug laughed, thinking to himself that Fang should be used to the weather in Riverton by now. It was generally cold in the small city, even in the midst of summer, sometimes.

_Pray for our souls, Bug_, Penelope's voice suddenly rung in his ears. He winced. Fang didn't notice.

Abruptly, Bug noticed a figure of a man standing directly across the block, dressed from head to toe in black. It was just as though he appeared; Bug was certain he wasn't standing there before. It took a moment for him to realize the man in black was watching the pair of them, but Fang didn't even give the impression that she noticed something strange.

"What's that guy looking at us for?" Bug questioned.

Fang looked at him as if he were mad. "What?"

"Are you blind?" Bug pointed across the street to were the man was standing a moment before, but he was gone, vanished into thin air. "Wha-? There was a guy there just a second ago, I swear!"

Fang glared at him. "Stop messing around. That's not funny."

"I'm not messing around, Fang, I-" but he cut off quickly, as it occured to him that the man might have not been there at all. Was his mind playing tricks on him?

_Or am I going insane?_ Bug thought, but he didn't answer himself.

"Fang, I...I have to tell you something," he shouldn't keep this to himself. He couldn't.

"All right," she said.

"I've been dreaming..."

Fang waited.

"About the Riverton Seven. Well, six. I'm not dreaming about myself, of course," Bug decided there was no point in leaving out details, so he continued. "They tell me things. And the Ripper's knife appears there sometimes, too. Someone's holding it, like they wanna stab something. And a voice is talking at the end - this is always how it ends - but I can never understand what it says. I...I've been having the same dream for a long time. Same exact one. Nothing is ever different."

Bug glanced at Fang nervously. She was looking at her feet as she walked, and he wasn't sure if she had heard anything he said or not.

"I didn't know who else to tell," he added.

Fang looked up stiffly. She studied Bug as if she had never seen him before today.

"A dream has the power to unify the body, mind, and spirit. It provides you with insight into your own self and a means for self-exploration. The rules of reality do not apply. I don't understand," she said at once.

"What don't you understand?" Bug asked, though he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.

"I don't understand why. How long did you say you've been having these?"

"Um, I didn't. About seven months, though. Maybe six. They don't occur that often, maybe once every two weeks, I suppose. They-"

"People say every dream can only be connected to your own reality," Fang said. "People are wrong."

"I'm not following..." Bug said.

"You said they tell you things? What do they tell you?" Fang asked, ignoring the question.

Bug didn't answer; he didn't want to appear crazier than it already seemed. Somehow, telling Fang that his dead friends were telling him "fear ye, the Ripper" was not his idea of normal. He shrugged, and Fang seemed to get the message.

"It doesn't really matter one way or another," she said. "Although, I'll tell you what _I_ think: I think someone wants to tell you something. Don't look at me like that! I'm being serious. You saw someone across the street, and I couldn't see them too, is that right?"

"I think I'm just tired, that's all."

"_Bug_."

"All right. Yeah, I did. It was vivid. I could've swore-"

Bug stopped, because Fang suddenly looked as if she'd seen a ghost. She knew something he didn't, Bug was sure of it.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Fine," Fang replied, and walked ahead.

Bug glanced up at the sky. "If you want to tell me something, _please_ make it quick," he muttered, and ran to catch up to Fang.


	3. Chapter 3

"Fang!" Bug clamored, as he tried to catch up with his sister, side-stepping to avoid students as they entered school grounds.

Fang merely kept walking, clearly hiding something important, and determined to keep it hidden. Sure, Fang was nice to Bug often now, but she could be sly and awfully full of air when she wanted to be. And she _wanted to be _generally way too freaking much.

Bug sulked as a group of freshman girls fanatically waved at him.

_Funny, _he thought, _how after something really fucking tragic happens to you and messes up your life, people start to notice the things they couldn't care less about before. Everyone in this town feeds on it. Sick, _he concluded with a disgusted look on his face, slumping past the girls who now wore crestfallen expressions on their faces.

Bug looked around for Fang once more, feeling paranoid, but she was already out of sight. He'd just have to corner her after class.

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><p><strong>AN: I know this is like very, very short, but I just wrote something really quick and I'm not feeling considerably motivated at the moment, since this only has one review. I might finish the whole story (the plot is still kind of stuck in the back of my mind), but I don't know if I will yet. We shall see.**


	4. Chapter 4

Bug almost jumped out of his skin, lost in thought, as the ear-splitting 8th period bell rang. He hadn't caught a word his World History teacher had rambled to the class; he'd been thinking about Fang instead.

_I think someone wants to tell you something, _she'd said to him, as if it was an obvious fact. Bug didn't know what that meant. But then again, he didn't understand half the things Fang went on about, so he figured he wouldn't and _shouldn't_ beat himself up _too_ much about it.

Bug scrambled to the door, only to be distracted once more by a hand on his shoulder. He turned around.

"Hi, Adam."

Bug sighed under his breath, if that was even possible. "Hi, Stephanie," he muttered, and turned around again, hoping to get clear of the clingy girl, but she trotted along side him as he walked.

"No offense, but what do you want?" Bug asked when Stephanie hadn't said anything yet.

"Oh," she didn't look offended one bit, and seemed to come back down to Earth. "Oh, right. I was wondering if you'd like to study with me after school?"

"Er-" Bug stammered, running his mind for an excuse. He had to find his sister and demand answers, but Stephanie looked optimistic and expectant, and Bug knew she'd keep asking until he said yes, due to unfortunate past experiences with her. "Uh - um, alright. Okay, okay," he said, craning his neck to see if Fang was visible.

Stephanie smiled broadly. "Yay," she said in a high-pitched voice, and pushed up her rimmed glasses. The two walked out of the school together.

Fang was nowhere to be seen in the crowds of students outside. It was as if she was _trying_ to avoid him.

_Something weird is going on, _Bug decided. _And I've got to find out what it is. Fast._

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><p><strong>AN: Sorry about my tendency to make these chapters really short. I'm starting to write a different story so I didn't really have time to put all my ideas into this chapter. Get prepared for some romance in the next one, though. That's all.  
><strong>


	5. Author's Note

**Readers,**

**When I find the heart and soul to write for this story again, I will, but for now I'm putting it on hold. I'm really trying to catch up on a multi-chaptered Harry Potter story I've been attempting to update for about a month, and I kinda sorta have to work on it, so don't expect new chapters for this any time soon. I really don't even know where this story was going in the first place...I just kind of wrote it one day when I got bored. If you've got any ideas of where to take this, don't be a stranger.**

**With all due respect,**

**Mollie.  
><strong>


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